Staying Power
by dragonpearlz
Summary: A unscrupulous business decision could cause trouble for Greer and Castleroy. An allergy to the product causes more trouble than it's worth. Luckily, Lola, Bash, and Kenna will keep an eye on Greer and her husband. Greer/Castleroy, Kenna/Bash. Season 2 SPOILERS Sneezefic
1. The Spice Trade

A tickle spread through Lord Castleroy's sinues as he spoke to the leading spice merchant from Portugal. He had been hearing for months about new spices that he was running from Portugal, but he was dubious. New spices were a particular trade with their own set of risks. There was no guarantee that the rest of his vendors would appreciate the spice. There was no guarantee that the spice would even be palpable. For this reason he liked to sample any spices that he decided to deal in. Generally, he liked to visit the plantations himself, but the recent outbreak of plague had taken his eldest daughter and left him quite depressed. Even his recent marriage, having seen his younger children, and finally being convinced of how taken Greer had been with them, had not elevated his spirits to a place where he would be fit for travel.

He covered his mouth with a cupped hand, his long thin fingers gracing the bridge of his nose as he tried to consider his options. The spice was quite unlike anything he had ever smelled and its numbing qualities would make it perfect for apothecary use. He couldn't imagine such a spice being used for cooking, and yet the merchant was quite certain that the spice was regularly edible.

"So, as you can see one hundred bushels should be enough to last you through the season."

If it sold. If it didn't sell, that much spice could last him until it rotted.

He coughed lightly, wishing that the peculiar scent of this spice would relinquish its hold on his nose and have the same numbing effect on his sinuses that it did on his tongue. Perhaps it could be used as an expectorant if not a numbing agent. He wondered if apothecaries had use for something that was both.

"Why don't you take a deep breath of it? Let's its aromatic properties fill you."

Now he was pushing too hard. There was something about a pushy negotiator that often made Lord Castleroy feel uneasy. Certainly, they each had their angles, but he had always found that negotiations worked best when both parties received beneficial results.

Turning away from the other man, he squeezed his eyes shut and sneezed quite unceremoniously into his cupped hand. "I believe I'll have to think on it," he replied once he was certain that he would not sneeze again.

"It can be used as snuff to clear your head."

He gave the negotiator a firm, but dubious glance. Now he was certain that this spice, however it was pronounced was being touted for more qualities that it had. "I do not believe I will be purchasing any today." His nose started to tickle precariously again, the tickle spreading this time to the backs of his eyes as well.

"But, this has been ground to the finest of powder!" the man retorted. "It is ready to use!"

"Which is exactly the problem," Castleroy countered.

"Well, I um…" the man responded, suddenly looking quite unsure of himself. He had known that Lord Castleroy was a shrewd, but fair negotiator. The initial negotiations had gone much more smoothly than this. But, as the spice started to be doubted, he began to lose confidence that things would proceed as planned.

"Unless of course, there is something else you wish to tell me about the spice and it' many uses," Castleroy said, closing the distance. He was not a tall man, nor large in stature, but he had a sharp wit and would not be treated as though he were a fool.

"You would doubt my word?"

"I did no such thing," Castleroy defended. His breathing was getting harder to regulate, but he was certain he would have to hold the sneeze off as long as he could. Sadly, he was also certain that wouldn't be much longer.

"Fine. You keep this spice. We will talk next week," the man said, roughly handing over the sample tray where a fine powder rested. The powder poofed in affine cloud as the tray hit Castleroy's hand. He gasped, realizing in an instant it was the wrong thing to do.

"I will not tell my Lord that you doubted his honor. But, I will encourage you to reconsider," the man said before all but flouncing out of the room.

Castleroy put the tray down hastily. "Heh-eh..Tessh!" he sneezed violently into his cupped hand. Again, a moment too late he realized that was not a wise idea either. The spice had landed on his hand in a large enough quantity to send his head spinning. He squeezed his eyes shut and felt hot allergic tears run down his face. "Heh-Tessh! Tesssh! Te-heh-SHH!" The sneezes got louder and wetter as he went on, causing his head to pound in protest. His heart pounded as he considered his options. He certainly could not be like this getting back to his rooms. "Tessh!" At least not without Greer there. She would have an explanation to give anyone who wondered and would see him there safely. "Te-heh-SSHH" One way or the other he had to find her.

He sneezed heavily and then did his best to clear his nose. Eyes wet with hot allergic tears, he righted himself and went to the guard whom he had stationed outside the door. "Please find Greer. It is… it is important." The tickle nearly consumed his nose and sinuses as he walked back into the room and sat down in one of the fine chairs.

He looked around the room. It had become familiar to him over the past months, but it was not home. He wished to be in his manor home with Greer. They could move around more freely there and she would take care of his precious children and make certain that they were not in the way as he sneezed his fool head off.


	2. A Dark Plot for Small Gain

A short man with deep green eyes gazed out of the window in one of the outside hallways. The view was magnificent and he looked forward to seeing it more frequently. His brown, sleeved doublet was a little heavy for the present weather, but he assumed that as the winter set in, he could be quite comfortable here.

A dark grin tugged at his thin lips as the spice trader came down the hallway. "He bought it then?"

The spice trader bowed deeply to the man. "Yes, my Lord, but he was getting dubious towards the end. He worried about how to sell such a spice."

"As well he should," the Lord said, casting a wary eye behind them in case anyone should be passing by. "But, not to be worried, crushed the spice will dull his senses. Whole it's the tastiest spice to come out of Portugal . Don't worry, we'll get you the job in the kitchens, my poor friend. And, I…"

"…will be the man who sold me the spice."

"Marking the end of Lord Castleroy's welcome in Court." Lips pulled back into a cruel smile, revealing sharpened teeth.

Observant brown eyes swept to the side as Lola passed by. She hadn't meant to overhear the conversation, but the two men were talking a though they belonged there, and she had never seen them at Court before. At the mention of Lord Castleroy's name, she looked down and continued past them. She had to find Greer.


	3. An Allergy Arwy

"Heh-TESSH!" The sneeze was wetter than the others had been. The quantity of the sneezes had slowed, but the intensity was building. His eyes felt puffy and he could only assume that they were red as they burned. He tended to his nose, the fine linen of his handkerchief brushing gently against his pinked, irritated nostrils. He felt them twitch again and pursed his lips together. He could not do business regarding a spice that caused such a horrific reaction. Likewise he could not admit to such a reaction.

Using his thumb nail he gently scratched the outline of his nostril, hoping that Greer would get there soon. He was certain that it hadn't been very long, as she had tended to him gently and lovingly ever since their union. He knew that her job as Queen Mary's lady in waiting could take her anywhere on the grounds. But, he did hope she would get there soon. "Heh-huh- eh-HUmptch!"

Pain exploded in his head and around his ears, causing him to cough into his handkerchief. He inhaled sharply as he felt his lungs go numb and his chest start to burn. Something was wrong.

Angry gray sparks danced in front of his eyes as he groped along the large oak table in the center of the room. His sight no longer any more useful than his lungs or nose, he felt it was necessary to find a place to sit. It was imperative that he sit down before he fall down.

Hunched over her groped one hand after the other, keeping his body as close to the table as possible. "Heh-HUmptch! Hesshh!" Needing both hands on the table, he tried to stifle the first sneeze. But, he was unable to do so and then second sneeze sprayed freely.

He paused, his head still bleary as he heard the door open and shut.

Gentle, rushed foot falls came to him and strong, but gentle, hands grasped him on the shoulder and the side.

"Aloysius, what's happened? Certainly you're not ill. Influenza?" she asked, the pitch of her voice raising in alarm.

"No," he huffed, leaning his hip against the table as he turned to face her. "This – this spice."

"You have an odd smell to you," Greer said, looking him over. Concerned brown eyes creased in the corners as she looked over her husband. Pushing him so that he was more sitting on the edge than leaning on it, she dusted his sleeves. "What is this?" she asked, rubbing the fine powder between her fingers.

"The spice that the merchant from… from… " The handkerchief went back to his face. "Hur-tessh! TESSH! TESSH!" He wheezed as his sinus' tingled. "Hurmptch! Hah-TESSH!"

Castleroy felt uneasy under Greer's watchful gaze. "Well don't stifle them so," she said, her gentle hand grazing his cheek. "I can't be much to look at," he said with a touch of humor to his voice.

"This spice… you're allergic?" she asked, her voice soft with concern.

"It would appear so." He worked hard at not snapping at her. He had requested her company. It wouldn't behoove him to then snap at her and make her feel unwelcome at his side. "HUMPtch!" He sniffed stuffily.

"Well don't stifle them so. It can't make you feel better."

"Hah!" he laughed, hot tears starting to drip from his eyes. "No… but I can't seem to stay the … the… HUMP-TESSH! Ugh…" He leaned his head forward and was instantly comforted to feel Greer wrap her arms around him and allow him to rest his forehead in the hollow of her shoulder.

"Bless you. Let's get you out of those clothes. Fresh clothes and a fresh handkerchief. A quick bath… you may feel better to get that dust off of you. Then we'll work on how to turn down the merchant without offending your contacts."

Exhaustion leeched through his bones, but he felt safe and cared for with her at his side. He entwined his fingers with her own with a nod. Tired eyes gazed at her as he started to right himself.

Greer sniffed minutely, her nose starting to tingle and senses feeling assaulted by the new scent. "Hertch!" she sneezed softly.

Castleroy snapped to attention immediately, his eyes filled with the serious concern of a man who had already lost one wife to illness and did not intend to lose a second. "Bless you. Are you all right?"

Greer smiled at him, a glimmer of mischief shining through her brown eyes. "It looks like I may need a bath and change of clothes as well."

Exhausted, nearly blind with tears, and suffocating, the thought brought a smile to his face. "I think that can be arranged," he responded gruffly.


	4. A Step Ahead of the Dark

Greer towel dried her long blond hair and smiled softly as her eyes grazed over the form of her new husband as he chose what to wear for dinner. Clad only in his undergarments – pants, tight down to the knees, and an open chested shirt with the arms open at the wrists.

"Here, let me tie those," she said, reaching out for his wrists. Her shift felt thin against her body, but she knew she had nothing to hide from him. He had captured her heart, saved not only her but her family's reputation, and married her despite their respective pasts. Eventually, he would claim her body as well. She was not ready for that – not yet. Perhaps it was because he had been married before. Or, perhaps it was because he was her father's age. Whatever the reason, he was taking the physical aspects of their relationship slowly. She was appreciative, although uncertain how to show it.

He half-turned toward her abruptly, as though he was lost and had forgotten she was there. "Oh, yes um…" He held his arm out to her, covering his nose and mouth with the other. "Humpch!" he sneezed stuffily and stifled a yawn. He sniffed strongly. "Do forgive me, Greer."

"There is nothing to forgive," she replied lightly. "Eventually, it will work its way out of your system." She tied his sleeve and opened her palm for the other.

He moved his wrist tentatively to her hand. "I know. This is not my first allergy," he agreed, a light air of congestion in his voice. "Hemp-ch-hah!" he sneezed quickly into the other hand, stifling it again. He groaned lightly as he exhaled out. "I don't know how much good I'll be at dinner tonight. Perhaps you should go without me." Truth be known he was feeling stifling hot and had not wanted to put on more layers of clothes. Indeed, he was feeling the effects that the spice was having on him more intensely than he had realized. But, the warm water from the bath soothed him considerably.

She had been afraid of this and had already chosen to stay with him if that is what he had needed. The man who made a fortune in the spice trade being allergic to a new sort of pepper would not be seen as favorable. She was certain he knew the implications of not going to dinner. If he was still feeling unwell enough to want to stay in, she felt that he should not be alone.

"Hurchumpsh! Heh-eh-Tessh! Tessh! Heh-Tessh!" He sneezed to the side, stifling the first and then unable to do so for the rest. He breathed out in a stutter breath, closing his eyes to regroup when he felt Greer's gentle hands on his chest.

"Then we'll stay in," she said, leaving no room for argument or even conversation.

She turned sharply and he startled as a loud rap came on the door.

Eyes that had seemed allergic but strong mere moments before now seemed exhausted, as though he hadn't the mental or physical strength to deal with another person.

Greer stepped away from him slowly, putting on her robe before moving to the door. Before she could ask who it was, Lola's voice could be heard through the door. "Greer, are you there? It's Lola. It's important."

Greer cast an apologetic look at Castleroy, who nodded in understanding and moved out of the line of sight of the door.

Quickly, Greer opened the door, placing herself in the doorway, refusing Lola entrance. "This is really not a good time," she hissed at her friend. Being an attendee of the Queen came with many complications, not the least of which being that the politics of court never seemed to take a break. But, if Lola was saying it was important, it probably was.

"I have information that is imperative for you to know prior to attending supper." Lola whispered, stepping precariously close to Greer.

Greer blinked rapidly, and looked behind the door to where Castleroy was working on becoming presentable.

"Well go on then. It's really not a good time," Greer said, trying to hurry her friend along.

"Greer, I _must_ enter. This is not for general knowledge," Lola urged.

Knowing how precariously rare secrets were in the castle, were Lola to have one, she would be unreasonable not to grant entry. She took pause, knowing that she could not subject Aloysius to anything embarrassing, such as being seen without his socks on or looking in any way unkempt. But, she couldn't very well be trapsing about the castle in her robe either. _'Oh dear…'_ she thought as she stayed firmly planted in the doorway.

"Greer, please invite your friend in," Castleroy called as he quickly buttoned his doublet. He quickly sat down and pulled on his boots, to complete the outfit. He was quickly overheating, but it wasn't anything he hadn't dealt with in the past. His first wife would entertain when he was unwell and he would always put in an appearance. From the hushed tone at the doorway and the way Greer paused without comment, he could tell that the nature of this visit was all business.

He finished putting on his boots and strode confidently to the door, pulling it open slightly. "Lady Lola, please come in. Goodness knows I don't spend enough time getting to know your friends, Greer. But, if this is of private nature, I can give you two a little space."

"No no," Lola said, holding her hand out to stop Lord Castleroy from leaving. "My Lord, this concerns you too. It is about the spice dealer with which you had a meeting earlier."

"My goodness," Castleroy said, with a quick quirk of a smile to hide his surprise, "truly nothing stays secret in this castle."

"Very little," Greer agreed. "Lola what have you discovered," she asked, ushering her friend in.

"I overheard the man who met with you speaking to another whom seemed to be his employer. They said that the spice when ground fine causes the senses to be dulled, but whole it is apparently the most delicious of spices to come out of Portugal," Lola explained.

"But why?" Greer asked. "What could he gain from selling Aloysius less than the best?"

"I have heard of such dubious practices as these. But, I have never been at the receiving end of such a scrupulous arrangement."

"He said that the man who met with you wants to get a job in the kitchens and that the man who sold it do him would –"

"Ah," Castleroy said finally understanding. "Yes, an my standing in court will be threatened because such a delicious spice did not come from my suppliers." A wicked grin crossed his pale face. "Greer can you get me down to the kitchens?" he asked, knowing full well that he could.

Her jaw slightly agape she nodded. They had not spoken of her past unless it could not be avoided. "Of course… just…. Just let me get changed and we'll head down there."

"No, Lord Castleroy," Lola interjected, "you can't. You'll be recognized and then anything that goes awry will be blamed on you. And Greer, I daresay you're not welcomed down there anymore."

Castleroy stroked his chin in thought and nodded to himself. "Lola can you gain access to the pepper bowls?"

"Well of course… I can easily oversee the setting of supper, acting as though it's imperative…"

"Bring the baby."

"No!" Castleroy interjected. "Not for this. But, if you can seem interested, and then put a bit of this," he said, crossing the room and picking up a leather pocket satchel," in each." No sooner had he handed it to Lola than he sneezed into a cupped hand.

She startled and jumped back slightly. "My Lord, you are not well," she offered properly.

"No, merely allergic to that spice. Perhaps that's what was meant by dulling of the senses as I am quite unable to smell anything." He excused himself to relieve his nose.

"And he said that tasting it dulled his tastes."

"Perfect, I'll do as you say. Will you be attending dinner tonight?" she asked, pointedly not looking at Castleroy.

"I know I'm not much to listen to, or look at presently," he said rejoining the two. "But, I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"I shall tell Bash and Kenna," Lola said.

"Best you don't. Too many people knowing a secret makes it no longer a secret." Castleroy countered gently.

"No, not that. But, that you are under the weather and to keep an eye on you should Greer get pulled away."

He did not like the idea of anyone knowing that he was under the weather. He was sweating already and was certain that he was going to feel worse before he felt better. He did not wish to be far from Greer at any point during the evening. But, having an extra set of eyes on him – or two – especially when those eyes were notoriously observant - like Bash's - or fiercely protective of Greer – like Kenna's – he could not ask for better people to have his back. He nodded once, signaling his approval. "Now if you'll excuse us, Lady Lola, we have to finish getting ready for dinner." He smiled as he could, but he felt oddly disconnected from his face.

She suppressed a smile and wondered if he was always so charmingly formal. Of course it was the opposite sort of behavior that had drawn her to Francis. He had been so honest and open with her – and she had expected to never see him again.

Greer fixed Castleroy with a stern glance, but placed her hand gently on his shoulder. She had already had one experience with him being under the weather and knew that he would not want to be around anyone. But, the cold formalities to the friend who had come to help them felt undeserved.

"Thank you, Lola," she offered, letting him walk toward the back of the room. "I – _we_ – truly appreciate what you are doing for us."

"I know," Lola responded, taking Greers hand. "Take care of him," she whispered, and I'll take care of you both." She smiled and left them to get ready for dinner, holding the small satchel as though it were her coin purse.

Greer smiled, oddly happy that they hadn't returned to Scotland any of the times Mary tried to send them. They would have been separated and in an untrusting world, friends one could trust were the best sort of friend.


	5. If not for you pesky kids

By the time Lord Castleroy and Greer arrived at the banquet, most of the other attendees had arrived. People were wandering about, sharing gossip and current events of their home towns and countries. The noise level seemed louder to Greer's ears, but she supposed it was because she was feeling most sympathetic to the discomfort her husband was in.

She stepped into the hall, giving Kenna and Bash a suppressed grin. She had not wanted Castleroy to attend, especially not when he had continued to feel so poorly. After Lola left, he had to sit down and divest himself of his jerkin. She could see that he was sweating through his shirt, so much so that she was certain that he had a fever. She was still not convinced that his elevated temperature was merely his body trying to rid itself of the terrible irritant. She would have come for a short while in his stead, or trusted the other ladies to handle whatever plot was afoot, while the two of them enjoyed a quiet night safely and privately sequestered in their chambers.

She stepped forward, ready to join the other ladies and await the presence of Mary and Francis.

A gentle brush against her wrist caused her to pause and look at her husband. His nose was already pinked, his cheeks holding that same nearly feverish hue.  
>"Stay close tonight. But, not too close. I need to be able to watch without your distractions," he said, his eyes becoming cold and calculating as he looked over the room.<p>

"I will stay away from you," she promised. She had never seen his eyes turn so serious. She wondered if this was what he was like as a businessman. Seeing him in such a way was rather alluring.

His concentration momentarily broken he furrowed his brow in concern. "That wasn't quite what I meant," he whispered, a huffing breath causing him to turn abruptly and sneeze harshly into his tented hands.

A small round of blessings murmured around the room as he tended to his nose. He looked over his handkerchief, bleary eyes taking in the room before him. There was something to knowing ones own awkwardness, and what was expected. There were a few new visiting dignitaries from Spain, a few astray family members visiting from England, and still more dignitaries from some of the lower countries, but he was able to place most of the people in the room. The only person he was unable to place was a tall fellow of deep olive complexion. Rather than a caplet, he wore a full cloak, his hood drawn up quite a ways.  
>He noticed the pepper bowls filled with a powder too fine to be pepper and dark brown rather than black to boot. If he didn't know better, he would think it to be juniper berries, but the powder was too fine. He wished that he had brought all the handkerchiefs he owned.<p>

He watched with a slightly proud smile as his wife spoke with her friends. A small flutter rose in his heart as he realized how close he had come to losing such a treasure. She had proven herself over and over since their wedding. She had cared for him during his first cold and now with this allergy. She listened to him – really listened – and wanted to learn his business. She valued him as much as he valued her. She was not his first wife. She was not the mother of his children and he feared that he may never give her children of her own.

He cleared his throat which seemed very tight all of the sudden, and joined a few acquaintances of his. Lola had obviously done her job. Now there was nothing to do but wait.

It wasn't long, perhaps an hour, before Mary and Francis arrived with Catherine de Medici in attendance. They encouraged their guests to be seated and Greer found her way back to him. Casually, their hands entwined on the table, only for him to pull his hand back and sneeze quite gruffly into it. "Do excuse me," he breathed, taking a moment to clean off his hand.

"It's all right," she said, gently. "You see, the pepper is simply too close to you is all," she said, moving the small bowl of mystery spice away from him.

"Greer, you're embarrassing me," he said, huffing a bit in a nervous laugh. "Imagine, a pepper merchant who couldn't enjoy the spice. Truly, it is a silly thing to say."

Of all the stupid things, Greer thought to herself. She felt foolish for her misstep – even moreso if it make her husband look poorly or poor at his chosen trade.  
>"I apologize, of course, Aloysius. I spoke without thinking."<p>

Keen eyes took in the scene before him. Others were putting the mystery spice pepper on their food, much to the apparent dismay of the cloaked man, seated at the end of the table furthest from them. As they took bites of their food, they seemed put off by the spice, often asking for more wine. He gave her a quick glance, but didn't really see her. "Then perhaps you should speak less," he all but snapped. "Watch," he said, gesturing with his head towards the rest of the room.

Greer looked positively abashed and placed her hand on his leg to feel connected to him. There were still so many missteps, but her husband was a kind man. If he were gruff with her, it was only because she had pushed him too far or he was not paying attention. Insulting him at his own trade, she knew, was taking it too far and she promised herself that she would make amends. She smiled despite herself when his hand found hers and squeezed gently.

"This is the most amazing spice that I've ever had," Catherine exclaimed, eating a bit faster. "What is it?" She turned towards them. "Lord Castleroy, is this one of your succulent acquisitions?" she inquired.

He grasped her hand tightly as he cleared his throat. He had not expected to be address by anyone of political importance. "I greatly apologize. It is not," he responded, surprised at how well his voice carried and how little the scratchiness could be heard.

The hooded man stepped forward, pulling the hood down. No one seemed any the wiser if he was supposed to be there or not. "It is a spice from my homeland, your Grace," he explained. He went on to explain everything about the spice and that his servant had asked for a place in the kitchen. He stated that his servant could act as a receiver of the spice and that he would also be able to work with Lord Castleroy, as he didn't want to offend anyone's position.

Francis sat back, eager to watch his mother in action. Her negotiation skills were second to none.

"Hit-ssshhhaa!" Castleroy sneezed. He felt as though a thousand hot tickles spread throughout his nose. He sniffed a bit and dabbed at his nose, to polite to blow it at the table.

Francis' focus wavered just long enough to see that Greer had the situation well in hand and returned to his mother, who seemed to be trying to suss out who this man really was.

"Francis, you should have some more," Lola said, coming up beside him and putting the spice on his food. "You see, your Grace," she said, interjecting to address Catherine. "This is the crushed spice. Far easier on the teeth and I'm sure more refined."

While she spoke, Francis had taken a bit of his food. Instantly, his eyes widened and he took a few stuttering gasps. "I can't… I can't taste the food!" he exclaimed spitting it out.

Catherine pushed her chair back, alarmed. The wooden legs scraped against the stone floor. "What is it, Francis? Guards, apprehend that man!" she shouted pointing to the cloaked man.

"Now you're Grace, it is not meant to be eaten in its powder form. It has extreme numbing qualities when crushed. Per- perfect for a chiurgeon's use. Perhaps your seer, Nostradamus, would be interested," he stammered trying to salvage the negotiations.

"You need new spies, for your information is out of date," she said, stalking towards him, like a wolf stalking its prey. "What is wrong with my son? Did you poison him? You'll answer, or I'll have your head." Her voice was simple, but threatening.

"No, I swear!" he retorted.

"You'd best be right or you'll be staying here far longer than you had planned. Take him to the tower, and if any harm befalls Francis from this, take him to the dungeons."

Greer smiled knowingly at her husband, happy that the man had been seen for the lying snake he was, and that no one had been truly harmed by his plan. But, her smile faltered when she saw the look on her husband's face. His eyes were half closed and head bent forward. His handkerchief was held loosely in his hand as though he didn't want it to be inherently obvious that he was going to sneeze any moment. Slender nostrils twitched ever so slightly and his breath came quietly in short halting breaths.

"Aloysius, we can go," she said, turning her hand to squeeze his.

He didn't seem to regard her right away, instead drawing his eyes closed. A tear leaked out and dripped down his face. She thought to Yvette - his daughter.  
>Perhaps he was thinking on her… or even his wife. "Heh-TISH! Heh-TESSH! Hep-TISSH! Heh-ESSH! Heh-ESSSSH!" He blew his nose fully when the fit had passed and squeezed her hand back. He turned to her, his chest rising and falling breathlessly. "My apologies, my darling. I am not my-self…"<br>She noticed the blush in his cheeks had deepened.

He clasped his handkerchief to his mouth and sneezed again, wetter this time, and shook from the force of the sneeze.

She placed her free hand on his shoulder. "Come," she said, giving Mary a sympathetic look. Her Queen nodded in silent understanding and permission of Greer taking her leave.

She guided Castleroy to his feet and gave him a few seconds to compose himself before he left. She looked into his eyes – usually brilliant with color and emotion. But, they were glassy and distant.

While she was happy that they had been there to ensure that his reputation was not harmed by the impropriety of the cloaked man, she knew that they had pushed too hard. He had a long, tiring day and needed rest. And she needed to see him to bed


	6. A Goodnight Kiss

Castleroy took a shaky breath and sat down the edge of the bed. "Well that was quite a show," he said, his voice gravely and tired.

Kind brown eyes looked into his tired ones. Greer tugged gently on her fingers as she walked over to him. "Very exciting," she agreed. She noticed the fine lines of exhaustion that were deepening at the edges of his eyes. "But, I believe it's time for bed."

He smiled at her gently and slouched slightly as the energy leeched from his boy. Clumsy fingers fumbled with the buttons on his doublet.

"Here," she said, ever so gently as her thin fingers moved around his and she took off his doublet. He had sweat clean through his shirt, causing it to stick to him, gathered awkwardly at different angels. "Oh, my love," she whispered absently.

He looked up at her as though she had startled him. That wasn't a simple term of endearment. The statement was said without thought, gently and lovingly. He smiled a bit as he realized that the pair may have a chance of success yet. Somehow he – middle aged and awkward – had wiggled his way into her girlish – and sometimes impish – heart.

He cupped a hand up to his nose and mouth. "Tessh! Tessh! Heh-TSSHHH!" He gasped a bit, but dared not lower his hand lest he disgust her.

"Here," she said, placing a handkerchief on his leg before he could even think about trying to find his. His mind seemed to be working as though molasses was slowing it down. He cleaned himself up and watched as Greer dressed for bed.

"I hope I didn't offend you tonight," he ventured. He knew that he had been more harsh with her than she was used to. He was glad that she had remained close to him. But, even still he knew when a woman was upset with him. Between his wife and daughters, he had plenty of experience with the particular and sometime peculiar behavior of women.

She gave him an incredulous look… a forced incredulous look. "Of course not."

Brown eyes peered up at her as he took the sleep shift that she handed to him. She was guarded. He had wounded her. He smothered a yawn into the back of his wrist. His exhaustion was not his priority. Making certain that whatever was hurting her was out in the open was far more important. He massaged his forehead as he tried to recall what he had said. "Truly, you can tell me. Even in my best health I sometimes say things without thinking."

"Aloysius, you said nothing wrong. Rather, I am the one who owes you an apology for making you look poorly in front of the others."

Now it was his turn to look at her incredulously. "You never did any such thing," he retorted.

"I did," she admitted as though she expected to be punished – as though he was her father.

He started to change, quite certain that he would not be able to have this conversation and change with his dwindling energy levels. "When?" he asked with a nervous laugh.

"When I said the pepper was too close to you and making you sneeze." She came over and sat down with a sigh. "I didn't mean to make you appear weak or like you were unable to do your job. I just wanted to rid you of the irritant. I swear. I am so sorry." She clasped his hands, hoping that he would not shake her off. Yelling she could handle; she was her father's daughter after all. But, silence bothered her to no end. She had spent so many years of her childhood being silent.

He relaxed into a smile, his fingers grazing her cheek. He had been married before and knew what a small issue this was. But, this was her first marriage, and she was trying so hard. "You are so kind," he told her. "I understood. I apologize for snapping. I just wanted to watch the room unfold."

She smiled against his hand, pleased at how the night was ending, but nervous about how cold his hand was. Gently, she placed her hand over his. "I love you," she murmured. It had been far too long since their marriage. She should have told him this already.

A smile automatically blossomed over his face, but his eyes quickly fluttered shut. Snatching up the handkerchief with his free hand he sneezed gruffly into it, feeling as though his nose was buzzing. "Heh-TESSH! TESSH! Heh-huh-TESSH!" He coughed a few times and blew his nose. He laughed a bit, as he realized that she had lowered his hand, but still held it in her own. "Well, it's not the most romantic night, but I do love you. You know that, don't you?" Inquisitive eyes bounced over her face, hoping that she would relax with him.

A smile blossomed over her face, causing her eyes to light up like stars. "I do," she said with a nod.

And then she kissed him.


End file.
